I’ve known a few SEALs. Some were the most stand-up, badass, understated superhero motherfuckers you can imagine. Those guys usually talked very little about their jobs, not interested in making sure everyone in the room knew they were SPECIAL. I used to work for a former SEAL,

and he was a straight asshole, but I’d trust him over about 99.9% of the population. I’ve also known some complete assholes who happened to be SEALs. The thing about the military and the “special” guys is that they’re not a homogenous group of like-minded, virtuous automatons.

They’re people, and some are jerks, and some are amazing, and it isn’t rank or “specialness” that make them either of those things. Like cops or first responders, the pressures of their jobs are very different from most of ours, (although a lot more bureaucratic and mundane than

you may expect), but they’re people. I respect the hell out of them — mil, police, first responders — but I don’t expect them to be perfect. I read a lot of shit that builds up the myths around special forces — great propaganda, but kinda unfair for the actual humans doing

the job. The guys I’ve known have done a lot of really badass things, things they can’t talk about, but they’ve also lost a lot — things they can’t quantify, parts of their lives they can’t get back. I’m grateful to them, but I also feel like I owe it to them to see them as real

human people, because I *am* so grateful for them. Because I’ve gotten to know a few of them and seen the person there. Joked around with them. Worked out with them. Drank with them, (I do not recommend this if you’re a lightweight like me). Shocked at least one sailor with my

fluency in profanity, causing him to say, “I’m a sailor, and she swears more than me.” (I want that on my headstone, @tdurd3n.)

My point, if there is one, is that I have no opinion on the current freakout over Trident pins because I’m aware that so much of what we know and

believe about the special forces is only a fraction of the truth about each and every one of these individuals who have chosen to do an impossible, unfathomable, sometimes badass, sometimes shockingly political job. The respect is warranted. Speaking as if we know what it’s like

is decidedly not. Thanks, SEALs, (and PJs, who are close to my heart), for everything you do. I’m not going to pretend I know what’s going on in a world I’ve only glimpsed. But the guys I respect more than almost anyone are the ones who won’t talk about how badass they are,

instead just choosing to live it. You all know who you are. Let’s do Murph with body armor again sometime. It’s the least I can do.